


Warm Thoughts

by Delphi



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Quit it,” Nathan said when a chill sneaked in under his blankets along with Josiah's hand. “It's cold.”</i> Josiah warms up a cold night with a naughty fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 round of Kink Bingo. Kink: "Orgies and Decadence"

"Quit it," Nathan said when a chill sneaked in under his blankets along with Josiah's hand. "It's cold."

That was the understatement of the year. Even inside the tent, he could see his and Josiah's breath steaming in the air, and while he wasn't entirely opposed to getting up to the sort of thing a couple of friends might get up to on the road, he wasn't unwinding his blankets for anyone tonight.

"Suit yourself," Josiah said, his hand withdrawing. "I'm plenty warm."

"Good for you," Nathan said, wrapping himself back up tightly.

"Mm-hm," Josiah hummed. "A night like this...good music, good food, and all those beautiful women..."

Nathan was silent for a moment. Then, against his better judgement, he rolled over and peered at Josiah through the shadows. "I know you're not drunk. I've been riding with you all day."

"Just thinking warm thoughts," Josiah said, and Nathan could hear the grin in his voice.

"Hmph." After a moment, his stomach heavy with bad coffee and stale biscuits, he had to ask: "What kind of food?"

“Oh, all sorts. There's a whole roast pig with apples over there behind those couches, and a big rare roast beef. Little quails on a spit too, golden-brown and tender and stuffed with rice and raisins. I don't know where the waiter with the tray of figs got to, but there's a mountain of fresh oysters by the champagne."

"There's champagne now," Nathan said, starting to smile despite himself. Josiah did know how to spin a tale.

"Only the best—and fruit punch for the teetotallers."

"I suppose," Nathan said, "that everyone's dressed up in their nice warm finery."

"Nope."

"No?"

"Nope."

"What are they wearing, then?"

"Not a thing."

He laughed. "What kind of parties you been to, Josiah?"

"Well, that redhead still has her corset on. Not much else though. And those two on the stairs are in their bloomers—although I don't think he came in wearing those."

Nathan snorted skeptically, feeling a not-unpleasant twinge at the coarse talk. Josiah could be even worse than Buck sometimes, not least because he could say a thing like that just as calm as if he were reading the church bulletin. "Must be hot in there, if everyone's in the altogether."

"Mm-hm." Josiah shifted, and there was the faint sound of cloth rubbing against cloth. "They've got the lamps down low and the fireplaces burning high. Some folks are stretched out on the velvet couches, but the ones who need more room are down on the floor, on top of the piles of evening suits and silk dresses."

Nathan fidgeted. He was, admittedly, warming up pretty well. The image of naked skin and firelight flickered in his mind. "Ain't nobody there got any shame?" he chided, tongue in cheek.

Josiah chuckled. "Nope. There's men with women, and men with men, and women with women..."

Nathan paused. "Women with women?" Truth be told, he wasn't quite clear on how that would work.

The sound of rustling cloth paused, and then Josiah was leaning in closer, his breath hot in Nathan's ear.

"See that woman over there? The dark one with the long hair and nothing on but her stockings?"

He closed his eyes and indulged him. "Yeah?"

"That's our hostess. She's lying back on a red silk pillow with gold brocade, and her beau is dribbling champagne and honey all over her nipples and sucking it off."

Nathan swallowed hard. "Uh-huh."

"And that buxom blonde in nothing but a string of pearls is slinking over to her on hands and knees. She rubs her cheek against those silk stockings, and then her mouth moves up between the hostess's thighs. Mm- _mm_ , slick and salty, just like a fresh oyster."

Nathan pictured it and flushed hot. That...made sense. He reached down under the blankets and adjusted himself.

"Well, I'll be," Josiah continued. "There's that waiter, coming up behind the blonde. He's hard just watching as she carries on licking and the hostess carries on moaning. He presses against her, and the blonde's so wet and ready that he slips right in, and she cries out..."

A small, hot noise escaped from Nathan's mouth, and he tried to cover it. "Mm—music? You said there was music. That band still playing through all that?"

Josiah chuckled. "The string quartet? Nope. The first violin has a pretty little brunette's ankles around his ears, and the second violin is bent over the table next to the ice sculpture, letting the cellist have his way with him and sucking the violist's cock."

That image was left to lie, and Nathan considered it for a long moment. “Josiah?” he asked, his voice strained.

"Yeah?"

He unwound the blanket and closed the scant distance between them, braving the brief flash of cold before his hands wrangled into Josiah's pants. His cheeks were burning, and when he touched Josiah's skin, it was hot as steam.

"Keep talking."


End file.
